Back in 1989, when Cameron Crowe rounded up John Cusack, Ione Skye, and John Mahoney and produced one of the greatest teen romances of all time (duh, of course we’re talking about “Say Anything…”), he also found time to compose a rather memorable soundtrack as well. The film’s money shot, of course, belonged to Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes,” but songs from The Red Hot Chili Peppers and The Replacements were used to great effect as well. Hiding way, way at the end of the soundtrack album, however, was a song that I fell in love with about as hard and fast as anything I’d heard in awhile: “Keeping the Dream Alive,” by Freiheit…or, as they’re more commonly known in their native Germany, Münchener Freiheit.

I didn’t know the first thing about Freiheit when I discovered “Keeping the Dream Alive,” but, damn, that song was such a gorgeous, sweeping ballad of ELO-sized proportions that I immediately knew that I’d have to seek out more of their material. As it happens, there wasn’t anything else to seek out…well, not in the U.S., anyway. Not long after, however, the band’s debut American release, Fantasy, found its way onto shelves and, almost immediately thereafter, into my collection. To this day, I’m still surprised that it never scored much in the way of success; it’s a highly enjoyable pop album that owes as much to Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus as it does Jeff Lynne. The only real explanation I’ve ever come up with is that it’s a bit heavier on synths and electronic drum beats than the kids were listening to at the time, but it still features heavily in my regular playlist even in 2007.

Unfortunately, Fantasy remains out of print in the U.S., and since that was the only Stateside release of the band’s career, Freiheit’s profile remains woefully low on our shores. Even the usually helpful All Music Guide gives them short shrift, with the bio in their entry simply reading, “This German band (orig. Munchener Freiheit) played power-pop music from 1982 to 1988.” That’s it. Talk about your inglorious retrospectives!

If you’re curious about the band, there are several import best-of collections available via Amazon, but you should be prepared to find them almost completely free of English-sung material. If you don’t speak German as fluently as the members of Freiheit, however, here’s a song from Fantasy that you might appreciate a bit more:

You might remember the band Novo Combo from their modest MTV hit, “Tattoo,” which was from the band’s self-titled debut album on Polydor. But you may not recognize anything from their followup album, Animation Generation, that came out one year later (1982, for those of you keeping score). And after Animation Generation, the band unceremoniously split up. But after doing a Lost Bands feature on Bullz-Eye.com, I interviewed lead vocalist Pete Hewlett and was re-introduced to Novo Combo’s music.

“Welcome Innervision” was the first song I heard off of Animation Generation, once upon a time when you heard new music on the radio that was worth a damn. And I remember almost driving off the road because not only was this a great song, but the guitar solo by axe man Carlos Rios (who was making his Novo Combo debut) was one of the best I’d ever heard. In fact, it’s still one of the best I’ve ever heard, 25 years later.

Novo Combo’s two albums are out of print, but I managed to find copies of both. So for your listening pleasure, I give to you “Welcome Innervision.” And I trust that you’re sitting at your computer and will not drive off the road.

Title: Gone!Date of Creation: Sometime around May 1992, I’d have to guess, since it would appear to be the first tape I made after graduating from Averett College. (Accordingly, the last tape I made before graduating was entitled Going, Going…)

Over the years, I’ve gotten less and less apologetic about declaring “Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan” to be my favorite film of all time; accordingly, I barely cringed at all when I recognized the initial strains of James Horner’s score for the film’s main title sequence. Not that I didn’t enjoy hearing it; I just immediately thought, “Oh, God, I’ve got to explain why I put it on here.” But then I realized that, no, actually, I don’t have to explain a goddamned thing. I love this score. Somehow, however, this disc managed to get purged from my CD collection, but hearing this track again makes me want to buy it back.

“That’s The Way It Stays,” Little America (Little America)

I know this was released on Geffen Records, but I always got the impression that the band’s success was rather regional. I don’t know that I ever heard their songs on the radio or saw videos for them; I just know that one of my oldest friends, Jeff Castelloe, forced their music down my throat while I was working music retail, which is how I came to hear them and learn to love them. And what’s not to love, really? It’s just good, catchy pop-rock with a bit of jangle. (And, yes, that IS a scan of the cassette rather than the CD; ever since they reissued the band’s two albums as a 2-fer, you can’t find a decent .jpg of the self-titled debut by itself.)

“Never Will Forget You,” The Candy Skins (Space I’m In)

These guys just couldn’t make a wrong move, as far as I was concerned…I’ve got every album they put out, and I enjoy them all…but it was this debut that sold me on them. It’s really one of those records where every song had the potential to be a hit single, if only the right people had been listening. Unfortunately, they weren’t. But at least the cool people were. And that’s why we covered them in our list of The Best Albums You’ve Never, Ever Heard (Well, Probably Not, Anyway).

Okay, music fans, correct us if we’re wrong, but unless you’re one of those wannabe hipsters that only buys this week’s buzz album, we’re guessing that somewhere in your collection, you’ve got an LP, a cassette, a CD, or even an 8-track that you picked up on a whim, fell in love with, and absolutely love to tell people about… and your introduction usually begins, “Look, I know you’ve probably never heard of this person/these guys, and I don’t know why it didn’t sell a million copies, but, seriously, you’ve got to hear it.”

Maybe they’re a local or regional band who never made the big time. Maybe they did make it to a major label, but the musical climate wasn’t right…or the label didn’t bother to promote the album…or, heck, maybe the band broke up five minutes after the record was released. Whatever the case, far too many great albums have ended up selling far too few copies, which is why we’ve taken it upon ourselves to try and rescue some of these all-too-unheralded releases from obscurity. We’ve also managed to get in touch with almost all of the artists whose albums we’re praising in this piece – the lone exception had the very good excuse of having died, but we did, at least, get in touch with one of the producers of his album – and asked them to answer a quick Q&A for us. So not only will you (probably) be introduced to several new albums, but you’ll also feel like you know a little bit about the person or persons responsible for recording them.

The critics can go on and on about how quirky bands don’t last long unless they’re named Barenaked Ladies, and about how songs like “Inflatable Amy” are downright laughable…and, hey, the Argument’s lead singer, Scott Simons, can even say he’s “embarrassed” by his former band’s self-released debut. But when you burn an album into your iTunes and, even seven years later, you can’t stop listening to it, there’s a higher power at work – or, then again, maybe Simons and his band mates had something special that not enough industry types recognized. (Personally, I’m going with the latter.) This West Virginia quartet toured so much in a van pursuing “the dream of being rock stars” that, eventually, their van and their will both stalled with an empty tank. While the album is out of print, its endearing combination of pop, rock, jazz, soul and every other influence under the sun showcases a solid group of musicians who could string melodic hooks and harmonies together as well as anyone. – Mike Farley

Fans of “The Office” will no doubt recall David Brent’s settlement-financed single – a cover of “If You Don’t Know Me By Now” – but were you aware that Ricky Gervais himself was actually a member of synth-pop duo in the ’80s? True story…and God only knows how it’s taken this long to appear on my radar, given that I’m such a massive fan of ’80s synth-pop to begin with.

The band was called Seona Dancing…that’s pronounced Shawna Dancing, ta very much…and since you’re probably still wondering, no, this isn’t a joke. You can go to Gemm.com and find the band’s two singles available from several different vendors…or check out this photo here, from their unofficial MySpace page:

(That’s Ricky on the right.)

And even more oddly, the songs – which can all be downloaded at no charge here – are rather good. Personally, they remind me a bit of B-Movie. But for a few twist of fates here and there, we might well be listening to “More to Lose” or “Bitter Heart” on Flashback Lunches today.

Don’t hold your breath for a reunion tour, though. It’s clear from that this clip that Gervais can’t look back on these days without cringing.